


ablaze

by thorduna



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Thor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Berserker Thor, Drugged Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Omega Loki, POV Multiple, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthday gift for <a href="http://loki-on-mjolnir.tumblr.com/">Cate</a> <3</p>
<p>
  <i>“Gather a group. Ten or less.” A hush of whispers can be heard around the fire. “The Jotuns are camped not three days north, gathering. There must be one among them that will suit.” </i>
</p>
<p>Without a mate, Thor's berserk blood turns him uncontrollable. </p>
<p>His tribe provides one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ablaze

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loki-on-mjolnir (basalganglia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/basalganglia/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Cate! Hope you enjoy.
> 
> So. This is a thing I tried.

“It has happened again.”

 

Hogun the Grim is the one to announce it. Grim news from a grim man.

 

Silence falls around the fire. The easily frightened, such as they can be among the tribe of the Aesir, known for its fearlessness and valour, look down, contemplating, while the more daring turn accusing gazes to Odin One-Eyed.

 

Odin straightens, paying no mind to them, eye trained only on the group of warriors that has come to bear the news in front of the ring of elders and alphas.

 

“Where is he now?”

 

“Bound,” Sif replies tersely. The woman warrior flicks her dark hair irritably. There is a gash on her cheek, still oozing blood. “Out back.”

 

Odin nods.

 

“Gather a group. Ten or less.” A hush of whispers can be heard around the fire. “The Jotuns are camped not three days north, gathering. There must be one among them that will suit.”

 

“But if we attack and steal an omega from them, they will-”

 

Odin cuts the dissenting voice off. “If we have the omega, we will also have Thor, clear-headed and unchallenged.”

 

There is nothing to be said after that.

 

Thor, the Berserk, the most powerful alpha in living memory and beyond, is both the pride and the true power of the Aesir. He fights with almost god-like strength and is capable of single-handedly leading his tribe to victory against any opponent who dares challenge them. His strength allows him to slay more enemies than even an ordinary alpha could, but he is also a _leader_ , inspiring the other fighters to throw themselves forward without care and die for victory of the tribe.

 

But that is the bright side of his ability, the shining ideal.

 

Berserks suffer when unmated, their hot blood running _too_ hot. The more Thor fights, the wilder he is and eventually, he forgets who his enemies are and is able to turn onto his own tribe.

 

The myths about berserks are clear – a mated alpha will be tamer. A mated berserk will harvest his own wild power and rule over it.

 

But there are no omegas in the Aesir tribe anymore. They are never born from their lines and the last one present was a valued thrall of Odin's, but she died more than five years ago, before Thor reached maturity. They can easily breed with only alphas and betas, but there's no beta in the world that could soothe the fire inside of Thor, son of Odin.

 

Sif takes one last look around the gathering fire, satisfied that her orders are clear. The dissent has quieted. Nobody has even dared to suggest that Thor be put down. Odin, despite his age, is still a strong leader. She jerks her head and the group of warriors follows.

 

* * *

 

 

a week later

 

* * *

 

 

Loki shivers and ducks his head lower, hiding his cold nose in the fur they provided for him. He aches from being manhandled and from being tied to a horse for an entire day, before they decided he could be trusted to stay ahorse and ride with them, certain that he wouldn't throw himself to the ground and run back, being too far from his tribe to be able to return on foot and alone. Things got slightly better, after, but his already strained and burning muscles were granted no reprieve as he had to keep riding anyway. It took two more days before they arrived and Loki silently curses himself for wishing the hellish journey came to an end. Now that it did, he thinks he would rather stay on horseback forever than face what might happen to him in this strange village.

 

People with yellow and red hair are coming out of stone huts and looking at him openly, murmuring and pointing. The woman who led the group that took him, Sif, guides her horse closer to him. He sees why a moment later. Among the whispering villagers, a group of alphas emerges, pushing at each other and yelling something he can't make out but isn't hard to guess. He can smell the sharp, nervous energy on them and curls even tighter on himself, afraid.

 

The woman leads him to one of the huts and helps him dismount, keeping a firm grip on his shoulder as she pushes him inside. The door shuts behind him, cutting off almost all the light. His senses tell him she stays on the other side of the door, replaced a while later by two betas that weren't in the group that took him.

 

Their presence is unobtrusive and Loki takes a shaky breath.

 

He's alone.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up suddenly, startled to learn he fell asleep in the first place. The hut is empty and so he's fitted himself against the wall, using the fur both for comfort and warmth. It's large enough that he can and he runs his fingers through the softness, wondering what kind of an animal it came from. He's certain he's never seen one as big.

 

The door opens a while later and he sits up hurriedly. He can glimpse a darkened sky before it closes again; not night yet, but it soon will be. It's the woman, Sif, who's come in and she hands him a plate with pieces of meat and something strange and gluggy, along with a tall dish that carries, as he discovers after sniffing it, water.

 

“Eat,” she orders, slightly unnecessarily. He's famished and doesn't need telling twice. Her voice, the way she pronounces things is weird to his ears and when he listened to the riders on the way here, he often heard a word he couldn't recognize, but other than that, he understands well enough.

 

For a while the plate of food is all that captures his attention, even after she has left. But when he's done, hand placed gingerly on his belly because the food is heavy and he has to pray he won't cast it up, a commotion rings from outside. Shouts and sounds of impact that can't be muffled even by the stone walls encasing Loki explode nearby.

 

And then something else hits.

 

It's an alpha smell, but not like any other Loki has ever encountered. It slams into him, filling his nostrils until he's shaking, feeling hot and cold in rapid turns. The alphas he's seen in the village didn't have an effect like that on him, he's not near his heat and so he was wary of them but unaffected.

 

But this. His mouth is dry and his belly tingles with something that is not food.

 

He has heard the rumours. His tribe keeps their distance from everyone else, their hunting lands and their home is far north. They avoid the Aesir tersely, old enmity keeping them careful around each other though they aren't actively warring, but during the early winter, like now, they travel further south and news comes, carried by the mouth of the more industrious ones, who like to trade and explore.

 

So he knows about the whispers of the _beast_ among the Aesir.

 

It must be him. And Loki's purpose here is suddenly more frightening than before.

 

The shouts quieten as the group moves away and Loki lets out a breath.

 

“Keep watching him.”

 

Loki jumps. The voice rings loudly, coming from just the other side of the door.

 

“Why?” a rough voice responds. It's one of the betas. “Isn't it time?”

 

“No,” she snaps. Then, almost as though she's speaking to herself rather than the questioning beta: “We need to drug Thor or he will tear the boy apart.”

 

* * *

 

Sif hates that this has gone so far.

 

She stands, lip curled in distaste as she looks down on her dear friend, now little more than a wild animal. He wears only dirty trousers and a torn tunic. He has fought them – her, their friends, everyone – so many times in the past weeks that his clothing resembles rags rather than the attire of a chieftain's son. His long blonde hair is matted and filthy, hanging down into his face.

 

As she watches, he heaves harsh breaths. There's a splatter of vomit on the ground beside him but he is already sagging, fighting the ropes binding him with less strength than before. The witch has given him a drink made from dark berries, foamy and disgusting and even though he only swallowed a bit, spitting and casting out the rest, it is affecting him.

 

She will wait a while still and only then send for the boy.

 

It was almost laughably easy to capture him. They didn't need ten warriors, they could have done it with two. It was the very first night they arrived close to the Jotuns' winter settlement, crouching in the snow far enough that they couldn't be smelled, but near enough to get some bearing. And then they heard it, the methodical rustling of someone combing through the bushes for berries, before the smell hit them. Even Sif, a beta woman, raised her eyebrows. A young omega, unmated, and so very, very sweet. She is not sure why he wasn't better guarded, why he was allowed to wander the forest at dusk.

 

She pokes Thor's thigh with her toe, earning herself a muted snarl in reply, but otherwise Thor barely twitches. Good. The concoction, of course, did nothing to clear Thor's mind, on the contrary, but it subdued him enough so they can be somewhat certain the boy will survive the mating.

 

“Bring him.”

 

* * *

 

When they drag Loki out of the hut, he almost starts resisting. But then he is out in the cold and the group of alphas is back, ribbing each other, gathered at what Loki supposes is the village common and he's suddenly grateful for the harsh grip the beta has on him.

 

They lead him into another hut, away from the frenzy and push him inside without a word.

 

He blinks, trying to see in the sudden darkness.

 

Loki is used to woven tents filled with furs, where everything is small but warm and filled with colour that can't be found outside most of the time. These ugly, empty stone huts are hateful to him.

 

But of course, this hut is not quite so empty. He can feel hotness in his cheeks and his lips part involuntarily, whether because he tries not to breathe through his nose or because he wants to taste what he's smelling, he doesn't know.

 

It's the scent he caught before, of course. The alpha. The beast.

 

There is an underlying sour smell underneath, which Loki supposes must be the drugs the woman spoke of.

 

It's hard to stop shaking.

 

He steps forward, unwilling to cower and hide. The alpha is here and he will take him – this is a fact that Loki has come to accept in the past hours. Now, the biggest source of his fear is not actually being able to spot the man in the dim interior.

 

And then he is grabbed harshly from behind.

 

The touch, two hands clawing at his upper arms with no care, is still electric and novel. Next thing he knows, he's on the ground and he twists and turns, fighting the grip until he finds himself on his back, staring up into the wild face.

 

Some part of him knows that the sour smell, along with the smell of unwashed body and old blood, is still there, but his brain is only registering the strong, clove-like scent of a powerful alpha. Loki fights and snarls, staring in fear into the twisted face framed by long, dirt blonde hair, but he feels himself weakening and then-

 

This has never happened to him before, not unless he was in heat.

 

He's only had three heats in his life, spent alone in a cave chosen by his tribe for exactly that purpose, shivering and sweating in turn, lying by a small fire that was tended to by an old beta woman. In the times between his heat, he was always acutely aware of any alpha in the vicinity, just like any omega would be, but he has never gotten wet from their smell alone.

 

He almost wishes he _was_ in heat. Then this would not be so terrifying, no, it would be almost welcome. When he's in heat, he's not thinking, he is made entirely undone by the basic needs of his body. He can't think clearly. He's more of a beast than a person. Just like the man above him is.

 

But now, despite the hot tingle in his limbs, despite the wetness spilling between his legs, he remains starkly aware of where he is and what is happening.

 

He gasps for air, pressed so hard into the dirt floor that it's hard to breathe. The alpha's hands move to grab his wrists and hold him still. The grip is so harsh Loki's vision whites out for a second and when he comes back, still in excruciating pain, he wonders if they didn't drug the alpha after all. Surely no man could be this strong.

 

Almost unwittingly, he utters a pitiful sound, unable to form words, but begging for reprieve nonetheless.

 

And what a shock it is, when he receives it.

 

He is still being held down, but instead of crushing his bones, the alpha seems more interested in sniffing Loki thoroughly. Led by instinct, Loki tilts his head to let him taste his neck, remembering only too late that he's just shown submission.

 

Perhaps it's for the best.

 

The berserk bites his shoulder lightly, nowhere near enough to break the skin and then comes back to nuzzle under Loki's ear. Quite suddenly Loki becomes aware of very persistent hardness pressing into his thigh.

 

“Shhh...” he finds the soothing noise slipping from his mouth unprompted. “Don't... please-”

 

The alpha pulls his head back and looks down at Loki. Loki sees his features in the grey dim of the hut; handsome, confused. His eyelids are drooping just a little, and that can't be right for one so young, it must be the drugs.

 

Loki was never happy as an omega. Everyone in his village knew that, though they cared more for the fact that his father _also_ wasn't happy that Loki was one. The alphas in their village turned their noses, saying he smelled odd, he wasn't a proper omega.

 

It was nonsense. Loki was perfectly fine, it was his lack of simpering submission that they didn't like.

 

This alpha clearly has no such preconceptions.

 

Then again, Loki has also never felt so weak in the presence of an omega.

 

“Mine,” the alpha murmurs and Loki's head spins.

 

“No,” he resists. “No, don't.”

 

He does, of course he does. Loki's clothes are torn and tossed away. He never once manages to escape his damning position – flat on his back – and despite clearly possessing the mind of an animal, the alpha methodically tears down everything that is standing between them. Loki is left completely bare in the cold, shivering with only the last threads of his tunic clinging to his arms. And the alpha's clothing is not hard to remove either, even though he has to keep holding Loki down – it's torn already.

 

As the struggle goes on, Loki feels his body weakening in a way that makes no sense. He has rested and he has eaten. The same force, the same animal force within him that drenches his thighs with slick is now forcing him to stop resisting this over-strong man.

 

But he doesn't want to. By gods, how he doesn't want to stop fighting him.

 

It's laughably easy for the alpha to knee Loki's legs apart and land on top of him heavily, prying Loki's thighs wide open as his hips descend down. He frees one hand and starts pawing all over Loki's freshly bared skin, long, ragged nails catching on his skin. And he licks and bites everywhere he can reach without dislodging himself and allowing Loki any movement – his jaw, the entirety of his neck, his chest.

 

Loki becomes truly, undeniably desperate when the alpha bends down to suck on his nipples and Loki discovers them puffy and sensitive – welcoming – to the touch.

 

A fresh wave of wetness spills between Loki's legs, along with a pang of something hot in his belly and the alpha reacts to it with a low growl and a very insistent, though blind thrust of his hips. His cock is huge, Loki feels that much just by having it press against him, but he's becoming so drenched he starts to feverishly consider the option that it might not even hurt to be breached by him.

 

Everything is so real at that moment, the bumpy hardness of the dirt underneath him, the overpowering scent of the alpha, he's own pounding heart and the acidic taste of fear in his mouth.

 

He gasps for breath until the gasps turn into sobs, but it doesn't slow time down; it does nothing at all. The alpha keeps thrusting until his hips slot _just_ so against Loki's and the tip of his cock slides along Loki's buttocks, so close to the alpha's goal now. Loki shakes his head.

 

He never had overly romantic outlook on his future mate and their joining but this- not this. Not this wild beast from a foreign tribe, not on the hard floor when his heat isn't even upon him to soothe him into oblivion.

 

No, he feels it all. He feels it when the alpha's thick cock drives forward, instinct helping him finally figure out how and where to thrust forward to finally have the thick, bulging head catch on the rapidly loosening rim of Loki's hole. He feels the relieved groan the man – the beast – above him lets out when he pushes in.

 

It squelches with Loki's slick but it still hurts.

 

Somehow he finds his arms free, only belatedly realizing that it's because the man has let go of his wrists to prop himself up and to hold Loki's hips steady. His hands fly down to grasp at the alpha's shoulders, squeezing and scratching in futile hope that he will let go. Instead, his thrusts turn brutal and he almost pushes the breath out of Loki with the force of the mating, rutting harshly, chasing release.

 

Loki sobs out when he gets there, stuttering, painful, agonisingly hard thrusts rocking him into the dirt. The alpha groans into his neck, fusing his mouth over the tender flesh and biting hard.

 

And then his knot starts to swell.

* * *

 

Thor knows the best course of action is not to think too hard. His memories are going to be foggy at best anyway, never to be retrieved, and he will only make himself sick if he tries to recall them.

 

Still. This doesn't feel like the other times.

 

Of course he knows, he remembers even now, exhausted and confused, what he is and who he is. He knows of these spells that take over sometimes in battle, when he forgets who is friend and who is foe. And he knows it brings shame upon his tribe.

 

His body aches terribly, he doesn't think he has felt this way since he was very young and received a well deserved thrashing from a group of older alphas. But beneath that ache there's something sweet and pleasant buzzing in his veins and, curious, he opens his eyes.

 

Everything slots together dizzyingly quickly.

 

He's in the village, though not at his home. Not on a battlefield, not out in the wild.

 

And he is naked, as is the shivering omega boy who lies tightly curled into himself as far away from Thor as the house allows.

 

His _mate_.

 

Thor sees silky black hair and a slim, pale back, covered in cuts and red welts. There's no bed here, clearly Thor took him on the ground. And then, lower still, flaring from the tiny waist are badly bruised hips. A mess of seed, slick and blood drips from between his legs.

 

He has to hold himself back, digging nails into his own as a sudden desire to go burrow his nose in the wetness arises. He knows they've mated, he can feel as much, but the possessive urge is almost too much and he crawls over anyway.

 

A light touch on the shoulder is all it takes to get the boy crying out. Thor snatches his hand back, but he can't help a warning growl and the boy subsides again, slowly turning and looking up at Thor.

 

Thor sucks in a breath. There's not an unmarked inch of skin on him. Bites and scratches cover his neck and torso and his nipples are swollen thrice the normal size.

 

“What's your name?”

 

He can see the boy swallowing painfully. “Loki.”

 

“I... I'm Thor.”

 

“I know-” _Loki_ says, almost like he wants to laugh mirthlessly.

 

“Where did you come from?” Thor asks, suddenly confused. Loki is an omega, clearly, and their bond is now very strong. How did Thor find him?

 

“I am Jotun.” Thor can see Loki's eyes flashing in anger as he says it. It's a feat for an omega to show anger to his alpha, especially after the mating he just endured. “They took me. Your people.”

 

The weight of this settles on Thor. For his tribe to go into such lengths- He gazes down at his mate again. “I am sorry,” he says very carefully and deliberately. This will be the only time he will say this to Loki concerning the nature of their mating. He might regret the unnecessary injury, but Loki is his now and Thor finds himself neither regretful nor overly apologetic about it.

 

He leans back a little to look over Loki better. They both could do with a visit to the healer. The part of him that is warrior, who is used to company of other fighters and sharing their blights, is wincing at the sight of Loki, but the very sated alpha in him relishes the very obvious marks of possession. He reaches out to pull Loki's legs open and see the state of him. Loki complies, though his thighs are shaking, and Thor looks at the shiny, red skin of his hole.

 

“We knotted,” he murmurs, quite redundantly. Of course they did.

 

At that moment, Loki tries to turn back from him, several sounds of distress escaping him.

 

“Hey.” Thor shuffles closer. Instinctively, he cups the side of Loki's neck, bending down to press his forehead to Loki's spine. “Shh. Shhh.”

 

It works. And oddly enough, it seems to work on the both of them, and they breathe out at the same time, bodies relaxing.

 

Thor's life will change, and almost certainly for the better. Tired and hurting, he can already feel the power within him humming contentedly instead of being the sharp, flaming force that fed his nightmares for many years.

 

He strokes Loki's hair, letting them both draw calm from their bond before they venture out of the house and into the world.

 

“I will take you home, alright?” he whispers. “I will take you home.”

 

 


End file.
